


The Portrait of a Demon

by XxmerthurcatxX



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Blow Jobs, But only a little, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Rumors, i don't know enough about genital piercings to actually write about them lol, no actual piercings, please do not be scared of those tags, specifically cock piercings, talk of genital piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:54:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24048529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxmerthurcatxX/pseuds/XxmerthurcatxX
Summary: The world has been saved, wine had been drunk, and Aziraphale finally poses a question that's been on the tip of his tongue for six thousand years: "Is it true you've got your cock pierced."----Aziraphale hears a rumor in heaven that while all angels are equipped with a gold ring, all demons are equipped with a--uh--well, something that any sexuality frustrated, very curious angel can't say out loud.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 291





	The Portrait of a Demon

It is worth noting that had Aziraphale not imbibed copious amounts of alcohol, he never would have posed the question to begin with. Sure, ever since he’d heard the rumor he’d wondered if there was any truth to it. There always seemed to be something else to worry about that was far more important, but now that Armageddon had been avoided and he found himself at least somewhat free of Heaven’s control, he couldn’t see the harm in asking. 

Again, the amount of alcohol in his system had lowered his inhibitions, which was why Aziraphale had no qualms about setting aside his wine glass once he’d emptied it, turning to face the demon, and asking the question that had been on the tip of his tongue for six thousand years. Ever since that daft rumor had reached his ears. 

“Is it true you’ve got your cock pierced?” 

Crowley choked. 

**Six thousand years ago**

Aziraphale was sharpening his sword, preparing to head back down the garden when he heard it. 

The arch angels were sitting in a circle, preening each other’s wings and talking in hushed voices. 

“As if demons could get any worse,” Michael groused. 

“Honestly,” Uriel agreed, his fingers carefully moving along Gabriel’s wings. 

“I almost didn’t believe it when I heard,” Gabriel said. “Bless the Almighty for having the sense to gift us with something tasteful,” he said, looking at the delicate gold ring on his pinky finger. 

Aziraphale’s eyes drifted to his own ring. Yes, he was quite fond of it as well. When he felt lonely down on Earth he would twist the ring and smile, remembering that he was part of something bigger and that even though he was the only angel on Earth, he was not the only angel in existence. It was a small comfort. So absorbed in thinking about his own ring, Aziraphale almost missed the next part of the conversation. 

“I’m surprised Lucifer gifted his demons with anything at all,” Michael mused. 

Gabriel scoffed.

“Would you honestly call a genital piercing a gift?” he asked. 

Aziraphale let out a squeak, alerting the archangels to his presence. They shot him looks of condescension that had the angel blushing. Or perhaps he was blushing at the--the other thing. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to the wall, Aziraphale?” Uriel snapped. 

Aziraphale flinched, nodding quickly and all but sprinting his way back to Earth. Goodness, of all the things he thought he might hear during his visit to heaven, that demons were walking around with--with their genitals pierced was not one of them. He hadn’t even been sure that demon’s  _ had  _ genitals. Though he supposed it made sense. After all, if his corporation came equipped with genitalia, then why wouldn’t a demon’s corporation? 

Needless to say, when Eve ate the apple and she and Adam were expelled from the garden, Aziraphale had more important things to worry about. However, when the demon Crawly had slithered up next to him to watch the couple set out across the desert, he couldn’t help but blush. But then Crawly was cracking a joke about how it would be funny if they’d both gotten it wrong and he was so indignant at the very notion that he left in a huff, all thoughts of piercings forgotten. 

**537AD The Kingdom of Wessex**

Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he was annoyed that the Black Knight turned out to be Crawly--Crowley--or grateful that he wouldn’t need to dispatch the fiend who had been “fomenting” chaos in the Kingdom. His heart certainly did a rather unfortunate flutter when the demon lifted his helmet and Aziraphale caught a glimpse of those brilliant yellow eyes he was so fond of. Not that he’d ever admit it aloud, but it couldn’t possibly be a secret to anyone who looked at Crowley that he was rather lovely. 

Crowley scrunched up his nose as he voiced his displeasure at the damp weather. Aziraphale agreed. It was rather a shame that the sun never seemed to want to shine. 

“Well, if you wanted to stop fomenting, you could go somewhere warmer,” Aziraphale said helpfully, hoping the demon would take him up on the suggestion. 

Crowley snorted. 

“What about you? Are you going to stop spreading goodness?” he challenged. 

Ah. That was a fair blow. If one of them stopped, they’d both have to stop, otherwise the balance would be thrown off and Heaven or Hell would just send whichever of them left back to fix it. So really, Crowley’s suggestion that they both went elsewhere, wasn’t entirely off the mark. 

“Besides, I wouldn't mind getting out of this armor. It chafes something awful,” Crowley groused and, with absolutely zero shame, he reached down in an attempt to adjust himself. 

Aziraphale followed the movement and he was immediately reminded of that ridiculous rumor he’d heard from the archangels. There certainly couldn’t be any merit to it. After all, Aziraphale himself was bedecked with male genitalia and he could attest that the armor did indeed chafe. There was no reason to suspect that Crowley had the added discomfort of a piercing. None at all. But what if--

“My eyes are up here, angel.” 

Aziraphale startled at Crowley’s words as he realized he had in fact been staring at the demon’s crotch for longer than was deemed appropriate. Crowley was arching a curious brow at him, lips curled in his usual smirk. 

“Didn’t think angels thought about--

“They don’t! O-or  _ we _ don’t.  _ I  _ certainly don’t!” Aziraphale said quickly, cutting off whatever Crowley was about to accuse him. Even the notion that he was thinking about Crowley in any sense other than as a hereditary enemy was dangerous. For both of them. Not that he was thinking of Crowley in that way. He was merely curious if--Aziraphale shook the thought from his mind. “It was...good to see you. I wish it were under better circumstances. And now I really must be off.” 

Aziraphale turned on his heel to make a hasty retreat. 

“Was he a friend of yours?” One of the other knight’s asked curiously. 

Aziraphale shook his head. 

“No. Of course not. Nothing of the sort.” 

**1941 London**

“I really do appreciate you saving the books,” Aziraphale said, taking a long sip of his wine and watching Crowley do the same. 

The demon was stretched out across the couch in Aziraphale’s bookshop, one arm and a leg draped over the back of the couch, the other on the floor. He looked relaxed and for the first time in ages, Aziraphale felt some of the tension leave his own shoulders.

“Don’t thank me, angel,” the demon said, his speech already a little slurred, pointing upwards and then downwards. “Never know who might be listening.” 

Aziraphale nodded and traced his finger along the rim of his glass. He let his eyes sweep over the demon spread out on his couch. Crowley was long and lean and very stylish. He always had been. While Aziraphale had found a look and stuck with it even when it went out of fashion, Crowley changed with the times. He looked good, dressed in a sleek black suit. Especially the trousers, which were tailored so nicely that Aziraphale wondered if Crowley had performed a small demonic miracle to make them fit that way. He was about to ask when his eyes paused on Crowley’s groin. The zipper of those perfect trousers was undone. 

It was an accident. Surely it was an accident. Even demons didn’t go wandering around like that. Unless they had some tempting to do. But Crowley wasn’t here to tempt Aziraphale...or was he? 

Aziraphale found he wasn’t exactly averse to the idea. He should be. He should be the very definition of averse. But the idea of Crowley’s body pressed against his own was-- _ oh _ . And he would finally know if the rumor about the piercing was true! Yes, right, this idea was sounding better by the minute and had nothing at all to do with the alcohol in his system. 

Aziraphale looked up to tell Crowley as much, but the words died on his tongue when he saw that the demon was fast asleep, snoring softly, with his wine glass up ended on his chest. 

Ah. 

Not intending to do any sort of temptation then. 

Aziraphale squashed down the disappointment he felt and got to his feet. He smiled fondly at the demon and brushed his fingers over his chest to clean up the wine before it left a stain. 

**Present Day**

Aziraphale frowned, watching Crowley get his bearings back after he had choked on his wine. 

“Have I said something wrong?” Aziraphale asked. He was far too drunk for rational thought, so the question he asked hadn’t seemed out of the ordinary. 

Crowley gaped at him. 

“S-something wrong? You just---you just asked me if--if--if

“If you had your cock pierced,” Aziraphale finished with an annoyed eye roll. “Yes, I know dear boy, I was the one who asked.”

Crowley had that look on his face; the one that he always got when he was sobering himself up. Aziraphale shook his head vehemently. 

“No, no! Don’t sober up! If I’ve misstepped I-I apologize. Pretend I didn’t--didn’t say anything. It was just a rumor that I wanted to put to rest.” 

Crowley however, did not stop sobering himself up. He smacked his lips, grimacing at the unpleasant taste it had left in his mouth, then slipped his glasses from his nose and fixed Aziraphale with a calculating stare. 

“Tell me, angel...where exactly did the rumor come from?” Crowley asked, fiddling idly with his scarf. 

But Aziraphale had begun to sober up as well. Clearly his question had made Crowley uncomfortable and he wasn’t about to make an even bigger fool of himself by staying drunk. He shuddered as the last of the alcohol left his system and the moment he locked eyes with the demon on his couch, he blushed. What had he been thinking? Well, he hadn’t been thinking had he? Aziraphale cursed his drunk brain for having no sense of propriety. 

“Can we forget I said anything? Please?” Aziraphale asked hopefully. The last thing he wanted to do was make Crowley uncomfortable. 

“No,” Crowley said slowly. “No, I don’t think we can.”

Aziraphale groaned and hid his face in his hands. This was mortifying. Perhaps he should have stayed drunk. At least then he wouldn’t have felt so foolish. 

“It was a ridiculous rumor I heard up in heaven. I-I was just up there to have my sword sharpened and I heard some of the archangels talking and they may have mentioned that while angels are equipped with rings, demons are equipped with...” he trailed off, too embarrassed to finish the sentence. 

“Cock piercings?” Crowley supplied, his brow arched. “You know not all demons have cocks. Many choose not to have anything, as a matter of fact.” 

Aziraphale threw up his hands in exasperation. 

“I know that! I-it was just a silly rumor. But then I went back down to Earth and I met you on the wall and I couldn’t help but wonder if there was any truth to it,” Aziraphale explained, utterly mortified to be talking about this. 

Crowley’s cheeks were pink now and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. 

“You’ve been thinking about this since Eden?” he asked. 

Aziraphale scoffed indignantly. 

“Of course not. I had many many other, far more important things to think on...but I would be lying if I said there weren’t several instances over the last six thousand years where the thought popped into my head,” Aziraphale admitted, wondering if it would be in poor taste to take a swig of wine straight from the bottle. He felt he needed it. 

Crowley hummed thoughtfully. 

“You could have just asked.” 

Aziraphale let out a startled laugh. 

“I most certainly could not have asked. It’s not exactly the kind of question one asks nonchalantly, is it?”

“Then why did you ask me tonight?” Crowley prompted, and really, Aziraphale was starting to feel a bit sick. This conversation was headed in a very dangerous direction. 

Aziraphale looked down at his hands. 

“I don’t know. I was very drunk, you know. We just helped save the world and you’re all stretched out on my couch looking more relaxed than I’ve seen you in ages and I....my drunk brain seemed to think it was now or never,” he said quietly. 

It was quiet for a long moment. Aziraphale had kept his gaze carefully on the floor, but the longer the silence stretched on, the more antsy he felt. Finally, he risked a look up at the demon. His heart stopped. 

Crowley was blushing ten shades of red. He was drumming his fingers nervously on his knee, but his eyes were fixed assuredly on Aziraphale. Like he was waiting for something. Aziraphale’s eyes dropped to Crowley’s other hand, which was rubbing over his own thigh. The angel swallowed hard. He looked...tempting. 

“Do you really want to know?” Crowley asked, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Aziraphale was suddenly feeling very hot. Had it always been this hot in the bookshop? He fumbled to get his bowtie off and popped the first two buttons of his shirt, pausing when he heard a choked sound come from the demon. Aziraphale continued, shrugging out of his jacket before he settled back into his chair. Much to his dismay, the loss of one of his layers didn’t make him feel any less hot. With a sigh he looked back up at Crowley. 

“Only if you wish to tell me,” Aziraphale said honestly. 

Crowley nodded, lip still caught between his teeth.

“What if...what if I’d rather show you?”

Aziraphale’s eyes were as wide as saucers. Surely he wasn’t suggesting...but what else could he mean? No, no, Aziraphale scolded himself. He would not jump to conclusions. He needed to be absolutely certain. 

“You want to show me y-your,” he made a vague gesture toward Crowley’s crotch, not daring to finish the question. 

Crowley, if possible, went even redder. He was biting his lip so hard Aziraphale feared he might draw blood. 

“I...yeah. I mean, how else are you going to know for sure. If I just told you whether it was true or not, you’d never know if I was telling the truth,” he said quickly. 

Aziraphale frowned at that. 

“You wouldn’t lie to me,” he said with a confidence he didn’t know he had. But it was true. Crowley may have been a demon, but he had never lied to the angel. 

“No. I wouldn’t,” Crowley confirmed. 

Aziraphale let out a long breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding. 

“But you’d still...you’d still like to show me?” he asked. 

Crowley was squeezing his thighs so hard now, his knuckles had gone white. He painted a very different picture than that of the relaxed, carefree demon who had practically oozed into the couch cushions before Aziraphale went and ruined it with his question. But now the angel couldn’t help but wonder if the tension radiating from Crowley’s body was discomfort or barely contained excitement. 

“Yes,” Crowley said softly. 

It took Aziraphale a moment to remember what he’d asked the demon in the first place, but as soon as his brain caught on he was out of his chair and moving toward Crowley. He came to stop in front of the demon and carefully dropped to his knees, not missing the hitchin Crowley’s breath. 

With shaking fingers, he reached for the fly of Crowley’s impossibly tight jeans, his eyes on Crowley as he popped the button and undid the zipper. 

“I believe you’re going to have to help me, dear,” Aziraphale said, eager to break some of the tension. “It’s a wonder you can get these on without a miracle.” 

Crowley huffed a breathy sort of laugh. 

“Who says I can?” he asked, lifting his hips and giving them a good wiggle to help Aziraphale drag them down his legs. 

It was too much of a bother to take them all the way off, since Aziraphale would have to divest Crowley of his shoes as well, so he left the trousers pooled around his ankles before moving onto the simple pair of black briefs underneath. 

“I-is this still alright?” Aziraphale asked. 

Crowley nodded, guiding Aziraphale’s hands to the waistband of the briefs. Well, that was certainly invitation enough for the angel as he, perhaps a little too eagerly, yanked them down. 

It wasn’t really a surprise that Crowley was hard, but it was a surprise that Aziraphale’s first reaction was to lean closer, his breath fanning over the demon’s cock and making the other man shudder. Aziraphale caught himself before he went any further and remembered that the whole reason for this in the first place, was to put a rumor to rest. 

“You’re not pierced,” Aziraphale mused. 

Crowley shook his head. 

“Disappointed?” he asked, voice wavering. 

“Not at all,” Aziraphale said, perhaps a little too quickly. He blushed. “I-I just mean that--

He cut off abruptly when he realized that his hands had found their way to rest on Crowley’s thighs. Thighs that were shaking beneath him and oh, Crowley’s cock was actually  _ dripping  _ under Aziraphale’s gaze. 

“Crowley,” he breathed. “Do you want me to--to help you with that?” he offered before he lost his nerve.

The demon in question groaned and covered his face in his hands. Aziraphale frowned, crowding closer and taking hold of Crowley’s hands in his own so he could see his face. And what a face it was. Crowley’s eyes were blown so wide there wasn’t a stitch of white left, just pure golden yellow. His face was flushed, making his freckles stand out. Goodness, he looked a right state and Aziraphale hadn’t even touched him yet. 

“Do you want me to?” Aziraphale asked again. 

Crowley took a breath and nodded shyly. 

Aziraphale wasted no time in slipping back down between the demon’s legs and, with one last look up at Crowley, he took him into his mouth. 

Crowley’s reaction was immediate. The hand that was still holding Aziraphale’s squeezed hard as a high pitched whine left his throat and his hips jumped off the couch, pushing his dick further into the angel’s mouth. 

“Ssssorry,” Crowley hissed. “I-I didn’t mean to--

Aziraphale hummed around him, taking the demon deeper to show that he didn’t mind. In fact, he rather liked it. A lot. 

With a courage he didn’t know he possessed, Aziraphale guided Crowley’s free hand to the back of his head. He gave Crowley a look that he hoped the demon would be able to interpret. 

“You...you want me to...” Crowley trailed off, his fingers tangling in Aziraphale’s hair and his hips pressing forward just a little to punctuate the rest of the question. 

Aziraphale nodded as best he could with Crowley’s dick in his mouth and released his hold on the demon’s hands in favor of reaching down to undo his own trousers. He groaned when Crowley began to thrust slowly into his mouth as his hand curled around his own cock, eager for some relief. 

“O-oh,” Crowley sighed, his eyes fixed on Aziraphale’s mouth. “I n-never thought you’d let me--never thought you’d want me--

Aziraphale pulled off with a wet pop for an unnecessary breath. 

“I’ve never wanted anyone else,” he said huskily before sliding his lips back over Crowley’d dick. True, he’d been with others over the years, but it was never about anything other than pleasure. This though. What they were doing right here. Was about so much more. 

Crowley was a mess above him, already beginning to fall apart if the way his hips were beginning to stutter was anything to go by. There was a steady stream of babble coming from his mouth that Aziraphale wasn’t sure the demon was even aware of. But Aziraphale heard every single word. 

“A-angel. You feel sssssso good--I-I’m gonna--oooh, yessssss---pleassssse, angel--love you---I love you ssssso much.” 

Aziraphale barely had time to react to that last bit before Crowley was cumming with a cry, his fingers tightening in the angel’s hair as he spilled over Aziraphale’s tongue. Swallowing what he could, Aziraphale pulled off just in time for his own orgasm to hit, and he tucked his face into Crowley’s thigh as he spilled over his fist with a low groan.

When he had come back to himself, Aziraphale couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, I suppose that’s one way to put a rumor to rest,” he chuckled. 

But Crowley wasn’t laughing. Quite the opposite. His face hidden in his hands, Crowley’s body was shaking with sobs. 

Aziraphale was climbing into Crowley’s lap before he could even think, hands fluttering over the quiaking demon. 

“What’s the matter, dearest? H-have I done something wrong? Did I hurt you? Please, talk to me,” Aziraphale pleaded, suddenly very distressed. 

The whole situation was rather ridiculous. How could it be anything other than ridiculous when six thousand years of tension had finally been broken? And now Crowley was crying and Aziraphale realized, a little belatedly, that both their cocks were still out. He snapped his fingers to put them both to rights, but didn’t move from his spot in Crowley’s lap. 

When Crowley’s sobs showed no sign of stopping anytime soon, Aziraphale wrapped his arms around the demon and held him close to his chest. 

“It’s alright,” he murmured, running his fingers through Crowley’s hair. “Whatever it is, it’s alright.”

After what felt like hours, and very well could have been, Crowley’s sobs subsided, aside from a sniffle here and there. He wiped impatiently at his eyes, flushing with embarrassment, but Aziraphale caught his hand and pressed kisses to the tips of each of his fingers to show him that he didn’t mind. 

“M’sorry,” Crowley grunted. 

Aziraphale shook his head.

“Don’t apologize, dear boy. It was all a bit overwhelming wasn’t it? I feel we, uh, sort of did this backwards,” the angel admitted sheepishly. 

Crowley blinked up at him. 

“What do you mean?”

Aziraphale sighed. 

“Well, generally I believe kissing comes before, uh,  _ that _ .”

Crowley stared up at him, wide eyed. 

“You want to kiss me?” he asked. 

Aziraphale frowned. 

“Of course I want to kiss you. I would have thought that was obvious at this point,” Aziraphale said slowly, when it dawned on him that they hadn’t really had a proper talk about their feelings. Crowley had expressed his in the heat of the moment. For all Aziraphale knew, he didn’t even mean them. People said all sorts of things when they were in the throws of passion and oh, now Aziraphale’s face was feeling very hot. 

“I...” he started, looking shyly at his best friend. “I  _ do _ love you, Crowley. I guess I sort of assumed you knew and, like me, weren’t saying anything for fear of our respective sides finding out. Oh dear, I’ve mucked this whole thing up. I should have told you that I loved you before I--

“Sucked my cock?” Crowley said, the smile on his face so warm and genuine that it made Aziraphale’s knees weak. 

“Yes. That,” Aziraphale mumbled, making to get out of the demon’s lap. 

Crowley’s hands on his hips held him in place and before Aziraphale could say anything else, a pair of warm lips were pressed against his. 

The kiss was soft and chaste, over in seconds, but it left Aziraphale feeling more than a little dizzy. 

“I love you,” Crowley said, blushing despite the sincerity of his words. “Figured I owed you a proper confession without my cock in your--

Aziraphale cut him off, kissing him soundly, eager to make up for the six thousand years of dancing around each other. 

It wasn’t until later, much much later, when they were curled up in Aziraphale’s bed, which until they’d fallen into it together had been mostly unused, the angel remembered something. 

“Oh! Perhaps I should send a note to heaven and let the archangels know that the rumor was wrong.” 

Crowley snorted and snuggled closer to the angel. 

“Nah, angel. Let them wonder.” 


End file.
